


Dog and Cat

by no_one_in_particular



Series: Into the Wild [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-15
Updated: 2012-10-15
Packaged: 2017-11-16 08:55:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/537699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/no_one_in_particular/pseuds/no_one_in_particular
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They fight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dog and Cat

_Steve expects that he and Tony will circle each other warily for a while. Tony pushed. He pushed back. Now they'll have to find their footing before they can move forward. He thinks they'll both be cautious with each other. He's apparently forgotten who Tony Stark is._

_They fight. Constantly and about everything. They fight about who drank the last of the milk. They fight about politics. They fight about TV shows and sports and history and what color the sky is. Tony pokes at every sore spot he can find, and even though Steve tries not to take the bait at first, Tony knows how to get under his skin like nobody else. Steve gives just as good as he gets, and some of the fights turn very ugly. They know how to hurt each other, know where the bodies are buried. They dig them all up, Howard, Bucky, all of them._

_Bruce refuses to be in the same room with them. Clint finds it funny at first, but after witnessing a few of the worst fights, he makes himself scarce, too. Thor tries to step in between them a few times, but learns quickly to stay clear. Natasha gives them both the Eyebrow of Disapproval and mutters to herself in Russian whenever they begin bickering. They're making life hard for everyone in the house, and Steve feels bad about it, but he can't stop because Tony won't stop. He knows how to keep it out of work though. He would never let something like this interfere with the team out in the field._

_Tony isn't so conscientious._

"Damn it, JARVIS, open this door!" Steve beats his fists against the door of Tony's workshop.

 

"I'm sorry Captain, but Mr. Stark has revoked all override codes and says he wants to be alone."

 

Steve takes a deep breath and exhales. He can see Tony inside, poking at the damaged armor on the workbench. "JARVIS, tell Tony he has thirty seconds to open this door. If I walk away, I'm going upstairs to get my shield. And Thor. And his hammer." He crosses his arms and looks at his watch. "And if I run into Bruce, I may just punch him in the face and bring the Hulk, too. Time starts now."

 

Steve waits in the hallway as Tony and Jarvis talk. Tony throws a mallet down on the workbench next to armor and looks over at him. Steve mouths, "Ten seconds."

 

Tony turns away, but Steve can tell he's saying something, sees him throw up his arms and gesture in the general direction of the door. A couple of seconds later, the door slides open.

 

Steve doesn't waste time. He storms into the workshop. "What the hell do you think you were doing out there?"

 

Tony sneers at him. "I was doing my job! Saving the day!" He waves his hands around. “You know the job description.”

 

Steve stops a few inches away from him, hands in fists at his sides. "You weren't saving anyone. We had a plan. It was a good plan. Natasha was doing her job. She was getting it done, and she didn't need you swooping in like that!"

 

"If one of those tentacles had hit her, she would have been killed! She was vulnerable. The suit could take the impact."

 

Steve points at the wreck on the workbench. "Is that a fact?” He doesn’t wait for Tony to answer. “Natasha was there because she's good enough not to get hit. Why couldn't you trust her?"

 

Tony jabs his finger at Steve. "You mean why couldn't I trust you, oh Fearless Leader and Maker of Good Plans?"

 

"Fine, then. Why couldn't you trust me? Did you really almost get yourself killed just to... what? Score a point off me?" Steve's voice turns cold. "If you can't take orders and work with the team, then you can't be a part of the team."

 

Tony glares at him. "You're throwing me out?"

 

"I'm telling you to make a choice. You're solo or you're a part of the team. You can't be both." Steve leans forward. "What's it going to be?"

 

Tony glowers at him for a moment and then grabs Steve's shirt and jerks him forward, kisses him hard. Steve has thought about kissing Tony. He's thought about it a lot, but he never imagined this. It's all teeth and bruising pressure, hot breath and hurt. He pushes Tony away.

 

Tony hits the wall, and he's grinning that sharky smile, the one that he always wears when he thinks he's won. He's laughing and smiling that smile at Steve, and it makes Steve so damn angry, he literally sees red, sees everything through a veil of red as he pushes Tony back against the wall, pinning him there with one hand on his hip. His other hand is in Tony's hair and he's yanking Tony's head to one side so he can get at his neck and chew a bruise over his pulse.

 

Tony's still chuckling and gasping a little. He's trying hard to thrust his hips forward, but Steve is holding him against the wall. His hands are wandering. He's touching any part of Steve he can reach, sweeping over his stomach, sliding down the back of his pants to squeeze his ass. Steve needs more hands to hold him down. He wants Tony to just be still, wants him to take what he's giving him.

 

He yanks Tony away from the wall and pushes him onto the workbench. Metal clangs against the floor as he shoves pieces of armor out the way. Tony goes with it, his legs immediately locking around Steve's waist as he lies back on the table. Steve pins his hands down on the table and goes back to his neck, but he can't stop him from talking.

 

"God, Steve. Give me some friction, something. Just move, fucking move." He hisses as Steve hits a particularly sensitive spot. "One of these days, I'm actually going to get you naked, can't believe I haven't got you naked yet. Seen your cock though." He wiggles hard up against Steve, hips pushing and working, rubbing his dick against Steve's through their sweats. "C'mon Steve, harder. Need it. Need it so fucking bad. Give it to me, Steve."

 

Steve kisses him again and swallows whatever nonsense comes next. He doesn't really need the urging. He's thrusting against Tony hard and fast, and he wishes they were both naked right now, but he can't stop to make it happen, couldn't stop right now if the workshop was on fire. He feels it when Tony starts to come, tears himself away from his mouth, so he can watch his face. It goes on and on as Tony writhes beneath him, eyes closed tight and moaning and muttering, "Oh God, oh God," until he finally lies there limp and spent as Steve keeps humping against him until he gets through his own release, equal parts anger and lust rushing out of him and it feels like it's turning him inside out, like everything he supposed to be hiding on the inside is just falling out of him.

 

He finally comes down enough to move. He lifts himself off Tony, wincing because he’s still sensitive. His fingers don't want to let go of Tony's wrists, feel like they're frozen into claws, but he pries them loose and stands up. He doesn't much like standing though and leans against the wall. His legs feel like jelly, and he needs a moment to pull himself together.

 

Tony just lies there on the table, wrecked. His neck is bruised and his wrists are bruised and there's a huge stain on the front of his pants. His hair is a mess, and Steve becomes aware that some of it is still clinging to his sweaty palm. He doesn't know what to say.

 

Tony never has that problem. He tucks his hands behind his head and looks at Steve. "That's better, don't you think?"

 

He's wearing the shark smile again, but it doesn't make Steve angry this time. He's just tired, so very tired.

 

"No, it's not better at all, Tony." He stands upright and heads for the door. He hopes he can make it to his bathroom without running into any of the others.

 

Tony sits up and calls after him, "Hey, where are you going?"

 

Steve doesn't look back. He just keeps walking as he replies, "I'm leaving. I think it's my turn."

 

He does make it to the bathroom without running into anyone. They're giving him a wide berth because they saw him before he went downstairs, and none of them are idiots. He showers for a long time, thinks he's going to use up all the hot water eventually, but it turns out you just can't do that in Tony Stark's house. He finally admits defeat and gets out. It takes the last of his energy to dry off, put on some boxers and fall into bed. He's asleep almost immediately.

 

He wakes up in the middle of the night and, at first, he isn't sure why. There's a rustle at the end of the bed, and the tinkling of ice cubes against glass and when he looks, he can see Tony sitting there at his feet, legs crossed, a drink in his hand.

 

"Want some company?"

 

It's the tone that undoes Steve. He's never heard the strain of effort like that in Tony's voice before. He's trying so hard to sound casual.

 

Steve scrubs a hand over his face and sits up. He takes the glass from Tony's hand and reaches over the edge of the bed to put it on the carpet -- there's no coaster on his bedside table and he's pretty sure it's an antique. He lies back and says, "Come on."

 

Steve can see it even in the dim light when Tony smiles and starts to crawl toward him. As soon as he's facing him, Steve wraps him up in his arms and throws a leg over him.

 

"Go to sleep, Tony."

 

"What? No. Let me go--"

 

"Shhh. Think about your roommates. Do you want them all in here?"

 

Tony wriggles a bit. "Let me go, you gorilla."

 

"No. Go to sleep."

 

Tony huffs. "This is not what I had in mind."

 

Steve smiles and tightens his arms around him, feels the arc reactor against his sternum. He smells like soap and scotch. "Tough. Now go to sleep."

 

It takes a while, but Tony eventually drifts off to sleep. Steve relaxes his hold a little, but Tony doesn't move away, just snuffles a little against Steve’s shoulder and then settles again. Steve falls back to sleep listening to him breathe.

 

When he wakes up the next morning, Tony is gone. The glass is still sitting on the carpet, watered down scotch reflecting the early morning light from the window.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks again to everyone who's reading, and thanks again to kassidy who never leaves me to flail on my own.


End file.
